It perfectly encapsulates things hipsters like. Childishly colourful, European and individualised. So, people can choose how many of each colour they want, and you charge them through the nose for the privilege. I mean, people in London were charging £2 for a farking cupcake.

The big thing is the marketing. You've got to get your presentation right. You might be a dude operating out of an industrial unit in New Jersey, but you need to push the buttons that makes people think that you're a charmant mademoiselle baking them in her kitchen by hand. Maybe get some silly van to deliver them in to reinforce it.

You're a farking genius. Call it Coloroon, do the place in the hues of a basic Crayola box, making a lavish/ridiculous and tedious time consuming fuss over placing the Coloroons into the box (their 'Homearoon') and change payment accepted for every customer: checks only no cash; debit not credit etcetera. Tie the boxes closed with paired multi-color thin ribbon and sisal twine, insisting the customer comes to a reserved area of the Roonery (because Bakery will never do) where you make them place their finger for the knot as an assistant coaches them in how to say "finger" in three obscure languages. Repaint the Roonery using the basic Crayola shades but in different geometric patterns every Sunday night. Make customers stand outside when it rains, all the while apologizing profusely that the humidity plays havoc with the essence of the Roon. Have your workers wear bizarre Elton John lensless glasses and flour in their hair for no reason whatsoever.

Please, for the love of god, stay the fark away from Grits! We don't need yall farking that up too!

signed,mafiageek1980

Oh, you know they probably will. They're like the locust-aliens from Independence Day.

The only solace I can offer you is the knowledge that, when that horrible day comes and they are purveying bespoke grits with artisinal molasses, you can step right up to their smug little faces and say you were eating grits before it was cool.

I recently took a day trip over the Brooklyn with my wife and a female friend who lives in Astoria, Queens. Our friend swore to us that the hipsters that we see parodied on TV actually exist. I vehemently denied that such silliness actually existed.

Well, we came up out of the subway and GODDAMN if they weren't EVERYWHERE. Each one more ridiculous-looking than the next. The ironic t-shirts. The thick-rimmed glasses. The farking BEARDS. We went into a small cafe and while sitting al fresco in the rear noticed that every single person in the immediate area was wearing some variant of Tom's Shoes.These people have "individualized" themselves right into generic commonality.

Porridge is the shiat you eat when you're too poor to afford anything else. I can see why it would appeal to the hipster ethos. Soon enough these people will be self-publishing books about excrement re-consumption as a dietary ideal. "learn from the canine" they will say.